


99%

by zaffre



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, I Tried, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, and John being in love, and Sherlock being ridiculous, and maybe some humour?, because it's there, did I forget to mention the fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 17:33:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10576119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaffre/pseuds/zaffre
Summary: A series of happy memories that John likes to peruse on mornings he wakes up before Sherlock.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aranel_parmadil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aranel_parmadil/gifts).



> I tried to imitate a bit of AtlinMerrick's writing style because she's so good at these sorts of snapshot fics, so any similarities are on purpose and intended as flattery. All errors are mine as this is unbetaed, and constructive criticism is welcome.
> 
> Thank you to DulcimerGecko who helped me brainstorm and the Antidiogenes chat for the word wars.

John Watson may not have a memory palace (or cottage or bungalow or shed), but he does have a series of snapshots of his favourite Sherlock moments and impressions over the years. Like…

Like that time when Sherlock accidentally blew up some India ink samples and the starburst of soot covering his nose and cheeks, combined with the bewildered look on his face, was simultaneously the most adorable and hilarious thing John’s ever seen. John had had to sit down because he was laughing so hard.

There’s the way that they like to sit tucked together lengthwise with backs resting against opposites sides of the sofa, John’s left leg flush against the back of it and his feet wedged between Sherlock’s arm and side and Sherlock’s feet just barely hanging onto the edge well past John’s right arm and side, both occupied with different things but sharing solitude. Every now and then Sherlock will reach out to squeeze John’s knee, just to add another point of contact. Mrs Hudson was positively beside herself with glee the first time she’d found them cuddled together like this, and happily made them tea and brought up her latest baking to mark the occasion.

There’s the softness that comes over Sherlock’s face whenever a child is positively captivated by his inappropriateness and unfiltered commentary. It’s like Sherlock can’t quite believe that he’s able to connect with and entertain someone besides John without being chastised or dismissed. It certainly makes John wish that Mycroft had been a lot less…Mycroftian in the way he’d handled his younger brother. John recognizes the look of want in Sherlock’s eyes, the desire to be taken seriously and admired. The hard edges of Sherlock’s personality and posture always melt away fastest when he’s holding audience with the young and impressionable.

He even likes it when Sherlock forces him to dress up in case-related disguises (but don’t you dare tell Sherlock John thinks this). The (separate) times Sherlock disguised him as an old woman at a Medieval festival and as a mummy were particularly memorable. However, John saw right through the plot to get him into Army fatigues.

There’s the entertaining time that John managed to hoodwink Sherlock into believing that he thought fairies were real for nearly a week. The photos of the Cottingley Fairies he’d provided to Sherlock as evidence had been the final insult, with Sherlock throwing his hands up and stomping off to his bedroom in a huff. John still giggles anytime someone mentions Fae-related happenings, which always prompts Sherlock to throw a faux-glare in his direction.

John also giggles when he remembers the time Sherlock fell into a bog while chasing a bird he was adamant was an integral witness for a case. One second he was there, shouting about song patterns and dashing about erratically, trying to keep eyes on the feathered informant, and the next he had completely vanished and a perfect ring of algae had been displaced from the surface of the bog that had abruptly found itself in his way. John had had to give up his share of the hot water at the inn so that Sherlock could wash all the silt from his coat and skin. And of course, the bird got away.

Oh, and John just loves that small sly smile Sherlock gets anytime John’s being remotely clever. Sherlock adds a conspiratorial wink when John’s doing it in front of the Yarders, particularly Anderson.

There’s the first bath they had together in their new tub after the toxicity of one of Sherlock’s specimens mandated a replacement, and how glad John was that Sherlock had insisted on the extra-large bathtub. Plus, getting to sculpt Sherlock’s hair into ridiculous sud-covered masterpieces was easily the highlight of John’s year.

God, Sherlock’s giggle. It’s high-pitched, infectious, and just as ridiculous as the man himself. John delights in being the reason for it, has often wished he had a recording he could play over and over again.

Three words: Sherlock and karaoke. Lestrade fell off his bar stool while watching this happen, and John nearly joined him.

There’s the time Lestrade got permission for Sherlock to have unrestricted access to the NSY serial killer evidence archive for his birthday. John was of course in charge of keeping him fed and caffeinated during his 72-hour reading blitz, though he didn’t really mind having to camp out at the Yard because seeing Sherlock so delighted was well worth it.

Sherlock’s grown a lot over the years, and one of the moments that truly demonstrated this to John was when a visiting pathologist insulted Molly’s science and then summarily dismissed her while smirking conspiratorially at Sherlock. Molly’s shoulders had slumped and her head had dropped, and for one teeny tiny moment John thought Sherlock was just going to completely ignore the whole situation. But he didn’t – he leaned in close to the arrogant prick and murmured something insistently but so quietly John couldn’t hear any of it, could only see the man’s face rapidly turning bright red. The moment Sherlock stepped back the man immediately turned to Molly, apologized, and rushed out of the room. Molly had looked confused, but John had smiled and at the first chance, given Sherlock a well-deserved hug.

And though others might not understand why this last one is John’s most precious snapshot, John honestly treasures the time that Sherlock utterly broke down in his arms. Sherlock’s unrelenting grief and his gut-wrenching sobs may have broken John’s heart a bit, but it’s still a valuable memory because Sherlock had chosen to lean on him. After all, having the person you love most in the world turn to you when they are at their most vulnerable is something incredibly special.

And of course there’s this moment right now, with Sherlock tucked into his side in a tight ball, snoring quietly. It’s not the first time John’s woken up to this, and it won’t be the last either because John’s one lucky bastard. God, does he ever know that.

He’d read once that 99% of who we are is invisible to everyone else, untouchable. But after everything they’ve been through, after gaining all these beautiful snapshots featuring the love of his life dozing beside him, John knows that’s not true. He believes we share pieces of who we are with the people who matter most in our lives - that’s a huge part of how we love them. And John will keep sharing with and receiving from Sherlock until he finally does have to build himself a mind bungalow to store all the snapshots he’s gathered because his heart is full to bursting with all the love he’s been so lucky to have in his life.

He leans over and kisses Sherlock’s forehead tenderly, gratefully, lovingly.  


End file.
